Through and in
“It’s amazing how you and Mathew are getting through the tragedy of losing Maya,” a dear friend warmly told me after she recently read an article about the Foundation’s work.
As I lovingly took that in, she noticed a glazed look that I had. It was the word, “through” that took me somewhere. “Through” means that there is another side. It connotes getting from one place to another.
I feel “in” it. For me, there is no getting through my grief, our loss. It is being in it this moment, and the next moment and the one after that. I have a sense that I will always be in it.
Thank you so much for sharing this, Elise. I love the changes of perspective expressed in your photos. You have juxtaposed Maya with a terrain of paradox! (liquid yet frozen, fluid yet hard, solid yet unstable, beautiful yet dangerous . . .)
I think you have touched upon a paradox in what you express here as well. The “through” and “in” might not be mutually exclusive. “In” has already evolved, which means you have passed “through” a certain season, or flavor, of being in your grief.
You bring to mind for me the passages of Torah that are considered both past/historical and ever-present/evolving. Both/and is an interesting approach that opens up new ways of perceiving.
b’ahava,
Yael
Yael,
Thank you as always for your thoughts. I wonder if when you say that when they are not mutually exclusive, you mean something related to the following perspective:
“in + in + in + in + in…= through”.
I don’t mean anything fixed or definite . . . just that you are going “through” different phases of being “in” your grief and loss . . . and that your experience of “in” will continue to evolve over time, even though you’ll never be “through” as in “done”. You are an evolving, heart-centered, receptive person. And you are sooooo loved and appreciated. Keep shining . . . and do let’s talk one of these days when you’re on your way to or from work . . .
hugs
xoxox
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Looking forward to personally connecting soon.
oxoxo
this is such a beautiful post; the photos, the feelings. thank you for sharing. I imagine that it feels like the ground is no longer solid under your feet and you need to hold on to yourself, to others, to work, and to the small joys of everyday life to keep walking forward. I will be thinking of you today. Hugs.
Yes to all of that, Andrea,
Some days, moments, breaths are thankfully more solid than others. I surely hold onto them.
Hugs back to you, Elise
Thank you Elise as always for elucidating exactly what you are experiencing. I Love you and now and throughout Eternity my dear friend.
XOXOXO,
Susan
Dear Elise,
I’m sure you don’t remember me, but when you were a very little girl I was a pretty constant presence in your home, starting in Brooklyn and even after you moved to Fresh Meadows. (Jody was my best friend in what literally was a lifetime away.) Today I came upon your blog, sort of by happenstance, and I spent a good part of the day reading it. It may seem crazy for me to reach out to you after all these years, but matters of the heart are hard to fathom, and in spite of the long, long lapse of time, I feel just as sad and heartbroken about your loss of Maya as if I were still a part of your family. So I’m writing you to share that thought, but more important, to let you know too that my husband is the founder and director of an international children’s non-profit organization that has, among other things, a field office in Nepal. They are called International Child Resource Institute, and they have been working to improve the lives of orphaned and otherwise disadvantaged children in Nepal for many years. If there is ever anything we, or his organization, can do to help you promote your efforts to preserve Maya’s dream of helping children in Nepal, please let me know. With love, Ellen Schwartz
Dear Ellen,
Wow! Of course I remember you! Despite over half a century, yes, we are still family. The threads of connections weave together in such mysterious ways. On some level, it does not surprise me that we are reconnecting at this juncture. I look forward to sharing on a personal level with you; learning more about you, your life and your husband’s work soon. Deep thanks for “happenstancedly” finding me. I appreciate that you reached out.
Sending love,
Elise